


Bucky Barnes in the 21st Century

by Supers_of_Innistrad (Wolves_of_Innistrad)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU Starbuck break beds regularly, Alternate Universe, Bucky gets sent to a universe where things are very different, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Science Bros, Tagging as I go, awkward conversations about alternate universe sex partners
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-01-18 15:35:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1433716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolves_of_Innistrad/pseuds/Supers_of_Innistrad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Now that the newlyweds are here,” Fury began, “we can get started.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>      “Newlyweds?” Bucky mouthed, turning his eyes down and only then noticing the plain gold band on his ring finger, an identical one to that of Steve’s. He had no idea what was happening, but it had just taken a nightmarish turn into the bizarre.</i>
</p>
<p>Or<br/>The one where Bucky gets sent to an alternate universe where he never became the Winter Soldier and he and Steve are newlyweds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Waking Up

**Author's Note:**

> Mildly dubious consent because one character is kissed by another as they are confused for an alternate version of themselves. The kissed character ends up enjoying the kiss and does not view it as particularly bad.

                With a barely audible grumble, James “Bucky” Barnes began to drift back into consciousness. As usual, the phantom dullness of his lost arm, replaced by cold metal, haunted him. At least, it did for a moment, before pins and needles erupted in it, making him squirm.

                “Hmm?” Bucky groaned, eyes glued shut with sleep. He made a move to roll over, but found his arm caught. Trying again, he met resistance and then a grumbling noise.

                “Five more mins Buck,” a man mumbled, voice tired and deep from sleep. Panicking, Bucky yanked as hard as he could, causing the man to roll off the bed. Like a flash Bucky was up, making for an exit, instead he found a bathroom.

                Things had been difficult since that fateful day on the helicarrier. Steve had shaken something loose in him, stirred up old memories he hadn’t even knew existed. The man had single handedly dug up a consciousness, a self, that his handlers had thought wiped out decades ago. At first he’d struggled, tried to fight it off, but he was already a blank slate, the pages of his life being filled in by the inky memories that slipped in through his dreams, scents, sounds, anything that could cause one to resurface.

                He’d steadfastly avoided Rogers since then, forced back the part of his mind that said it knew him, yearned for his friendship, a companion. Someone like him, who’d been turned into something new, something somehow better and worse than before. Someone for whom being displaced in time, unaware of so much and fighting just to imitate some semblance of normalcy was a daily challenge.

                He’d done something, that much his sleep-addled brain could comprehend. Had he slept with a man? He wasn’t sure, but there had definitely been a man in his bed. The thought had never even crossed his mind, at least, not that he could remember, which wasn’t saying much. As he tried to fit together pieces of what was happening, how he’d went from a safe house in Virginia to wherever this was, he reached to splash some water on his face. It was cool, prickling his fingers with its iciness. Opening his eyes, it was his hair, oddly, that he noticed first.

                Where once he’d had long locks, foreboding curtains to shadow his face, he now wore a shorter style. Faint memories supplied from his deepest recesses told him it resembled what he’d looked like before, back when the Winter Soldier was not yet even an idea in Hydra’s vast network of schemers and tacticians. That wasn’t the biggest surprise though. As his eyes scanned his reflection, it hit him that his arm looked normal. It _felt_ normal.

                Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt his arm.

                His breathing became harsh for a moment, unable to make sense of anything that was going on. His first desperate thought was that he was being drugged, followed swiftly by it being a fake, just very good prosthetic work or maybe new circuitry. Yet when his fingers touched the skin of his no longer metallic arm, they felt only flesh. Hard and muscular, but supple and warm. Human.

                “Meet you at Shield HQ Buck!” a voice called from behind the door. Bucky hesitated, unlike him he felt, unsure whether he should pursue the voice and question them or stay behind as he attempted to come to grips with the madness that was this day. Distantly he heard a door shut and cracked the bathroom one, glancing through the portal and finding no one.

                He ambled forward, motions smooth and practiced, boxers hanging low on his hips. Padding over to the bureau, he pulled the first shirt out. A reluctant smile crossed his lips that it was plain and black. Next were pants, which he found in an antiquated wardrobe on the other side of the room. Tall, dark finished mahogany loomed above him, matching the other, equally antique furniture in the room. The king size bed, made out of the same wood, save the headboard curiously, was positioned in the middle of the room. The urge to investigate warred with the desire to get out of this place, seek shelter somewhere he could understand what had happened.

                Eventually he ventured out of the bedroom, finding a cozy two story house. Everything in it seemed ancient, as if it had been around as long as he had. The antique furniture clashed with the ultra-modern laptops, televisions and other modern appliances strewn about the house, giving everything an oddly anachronistic vibe. Stranger still was the preponderance of photos in which he and Steve smiled back at him. After a while it all became too unnerving and Bucky fled the house, taking the keys he found in a bowl and searching out the car they went to.

                It wasn’t a car he found, but a motorcycle. Thanking his various mission training exercises and false memories, he mounted it, riding off towards S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ. The man who was there, who he had a good feel was Steve Rogers, his former colleague, and possibly friend it was hard to remember correctly, said this was where he was expected. Following orders was no longer something he wished to comply with, but investigating may be the only way to find out what happened to him this time.

                Arriving at the base, he realized he had no identification with him. Prepared to fight his way in if necessary, he was shocked to find the guards let him right through.

                “Good morning Mr. Barnes, uh, I mean Mr. um… Anyway, congratulations sir!” the guard said, saluting him as he passed. Everything about this day was surreal and it only seemed to get worse. Thankfully the security inside was retinal scanning, meaning his lack of ID was a non-factor. It was strange being in S.H.I.E.L.D again when just yesterday it was a ghost, a mere wisp of its former self, agents decentralized and shipped off to whatever governmental agency best suited them. He’d talked with enough people that were left over though, along with his implanted knowledge from Hydra as the Winter Soldier, to know what it was like.

                As he reached the briefing room floor, having been directed there by yet another unfamiliar face who acted as if they’d known him forever, he saw a flash of bright red coming around a corner. His muscles tensed, ready to strike. Black Widow was vicious and extremely skilled, not one to underestimate.

                Then she smiled at him fondly. “Hey _James!_ ” she cooed demurely, lacing his name with an unusual mixture of friendliness and sarcasm, as if it were some long-standing joke, a means of teasing him. Bucky had dealt with undercover missions before, he knew how to play close to his chest. He returned the nod and kept walking. As he headed to the intended room, he spotted a man, all broad shoulders and blond, expertly quaffed hair. He knew that frame anywhere, Captain America; Steve Rogers.

                Approaching with caution, he moved silently towards the man. Then, Steve spun, eyes alighting on him, mouth quirked into a smile as he strode forward to meet him. “Buck,” he said sweetly, even more unsettling than before, before pulling Bucky into a deep and passionate kiss. Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he’d been kissed, and certainly not by a man, but the shock kept him from reacting. Then he let himself go for a moment, lost in the new sensation. It was stupid he knew, but he had half a mind to write this all off as a very crazy dream, so his will to fight off the amazing things Steve was doing with his tongue and lips and teeth began to wane.

                Someone spoke and Steve pulled away, Bucky chasing his mouth despite himself but not finding purchase. “Well, Mr. and Mr. Rogers, so nice of you two to finally show up,” Nick Fury said, turning on his heel, coat swishing behind him.

                “Come on, there’ll be more time for that later,” Steve said with a shy smile, fingers sliding into Bucky’s hand and pulling him into the room.

                “Now that the newlyweds are here,” Fury began, “we can get started.”

                “Newlyweds?” Bucky mouthed, turning his eyes down and only then noticing the plain gold band on his ring finger, an identical one to that of Steve’s. He had no idea what was happening, but it had just taken a nightmarish turn into the bizarre.


	2. Science Genius Boys

                 Fury’s voice droned in the back of his mind as his thoughts raced, trying to link together all the information he’d gathered. The house, the photos, the chuckling guards, the rings and, finally, that they’d woken up in bed together. Whatever had happened, the rest of the world seemed to believe he and Steve had gotten married, and, unfortunately, he couldn’t find any proof beyond his own shoddy memories that it wasn’t true. That was when the paranoia set in.

                Had he been reprogrammed again, but this time by S.H.I.E.L.D.? Leave it to them to mess up something that easy. Then again, the building was entirely intact, Fury showed no signs of scarring from the recent injuries he’d sustained at his own hands, no, the Winter Soldier’s hands. No matter how messed up his mind was, he knew the Winter Soldier was not him, not anymore. But then how could any of this be he wondered. His eyes trailed to Steve, just out of the corner of his eye, watching, studying. He was intent, focused as always on the task at hand. Even so, his glance strayed to Bucky every once in a while, a private smile, a quick glance. IT was like he was checking to make sure he was still there, yet not because Bucky was af light risk, the reason he should keep vigil, but because he cared. That scared him the most, out of anything that had happened since he’d woken up. For the life of him, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his Steve, the Steve he knew, would do the same thing. Had done the same thing.

* * *

 

                Soon enough the briefing was over, Bucky catching just enough to know they were being sent to rescue a dignitary from terrorists; a cake walk really. Standing to leave, Steve turned this expectant smile on him and he froze. From hat he’d gathered, what he remembered, they were friends for many years. He tried to stir up some of that emotion, but found he could only screw a tight smile to his face.

                “You ok Buck?” Steve asked, the picture of a caring husband and wow, he did not need to be thinking those things. Shaking it off, he batted the comment away with his hand, his flesh and blood hand that he was still gawking at internally.

                “Fine,” he said dismissively, scooting around Steve and heading for the door.   Thankfully the man seemed to buy that, albeit reluctantly, and marched on, keeping eerily in step with him. Even their strides matched, and it was uncanny. Along the way Bucky noticed something he thought was quite unusual; Steve had an advanced smartphone out and was fiddling with different apps. For anyon else this would be surprising, but for a man frozen in ice for 70 years it was downright odd. Before he could comment on it though, their motion was impeded by an interloper.

                Steve met the man with a smile, pulling him into a half hug. “Bruce! What are you doing here?” he said excitedly, turning down a corner to continue on with him. Bucky followed, not having any clear purpose beyond the mission they were assigned and figuring out what was going on.

                “Well, I’ve been going over some of the peak disturbances Shield was tracking yesterday. It seems they surged around 2100 hours last night. A localized emission came from somewhere in the city, but we haven’t been able to pinpoint an exact location.” Bruce supplied, strolling into what appeared to be some kind of lab. Bucky’s ears picked up on their discussion, silently wondering if it was connected to the strange events of the day.

                “Have you attempted to triangulate the coordinates? Maybe run a backwards loop tracer?” Steve responded and hearing him talk tech was even odder than the smartphone.

                “Yes and that proved fruitless I’m afraid.”

                “What about Stark’s grand new ultra high frequency emission detector?”

                “That is still in beta. Or rather delta. Gamma? “ a man said, practically sashaying out from behind a workbench. He had the air of a king, self-important and learned, but a bit frivolous all the same.

                “Do you ever finish anything Stark? Or is everything you design just another in an endless series of prototypes?” Steve bit back, but without any real heat in the words.

                “Hey, the Stark name is practically written into your genes,” Stark answered, leveling him with a glance. “Loverboy’s too,” he said, casting his gaze at Bucky before rounding back on Steve.

                “Please, that was Howard’s doing, not yours.”

                “I’ll take credit for my father’s genius until I manage to recreate that blasted formula.”

                “Fury would have you tried for treason if you did.”

                “No he wouldn’t, he loves me. Everyone loves me.”

                “Yeah, right,” Bruce said, rolling his eyes as he shuffled some papers around.

                “Don’t take that tone with me Banner! That stabilizing agent has to come from somewhere.” Stark countered, ambling over towards him.

                “Again, Fury would have you assassinated if you tried to withhold the formula,” Steve began, followed quickly by a rebuttal from Bruce.

                “Besides, I haven’t truly needed it in quite some time. Or does our last ‘training exercise’ not ring any bells?” Bruce taunted.

                Stark narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms before making a harrumphing noise. “I steadfastly refuse to believe that was anything less than an armor malfunction.”

                “An armor malfunction had you flying around teasing the Hulk and then getting smashed to bits, almost literally?” Steve chided, glint of mischief in his eye.

                Bucky watched as Stark threw his hands up, whether in defeat or annoyance he wasn’t sure, although he figured the later, and stormed off to another section of the lab. Bruce and Steve exchanged a few more words with a promise to return after the mission and look into their further findings. Satisfied with his dealings, Steve entwined their hands again before walking off, hardly recognizing the stuttering gait Bucky affected at the suddenness.

                When they got outside, Bucky made for his bike, or at least, the bike he’d rode here, before being stopped by Steve. “Ride with me, someone can take the bike back to our house,” Steve called, waving him over to their own car, a handsome Aston Martin model painted American flag red. Hesitating, Bucky decided playing along with the charade a bit longer was better than risking a fight with a super soldier. While he hadn’t tested himself, he still felt strong, but without his bionic arm his fighting style would need minor adjustments before he could easily take on the Captain one on one and unarmed.

                With a barely concealed sigh he got in the car, his door opened for him by Steve, and let the man begin the drive home. He chastised himself for calling it that, knowing that no matter what anyone said, he was not the man married to Steve. He didn’t fit here and needed to find out fast. Steve, his for-now pretend husband, placed a hand on his knee, smiling at him as they drove through crowded streets and then secluded, tree-lined neighborhoods. A security detail was following them, not conspicuous but easily recognized by their measured distance and steady speed. When Steve noticed him looking back he grinned, casting a glance over his shoulder.

                “Fury figured we needed extra security after the wedding. I know, I know, I said it was pointless too,” he continued, stopping a question he’d anticipated but Bucky had not even thought to ask. “I mean, two long standing do-gooders, male do-gooders at that, getting married? Definitely going to ruffle some feathers. Not that we can’t handle ourselves, but it’s nice knowing someone else is looking out for us so we can just relax as we settle back into things. I mean, I know I still haven’t fully recovered from the honeymoon.” Steve turned and winked at him, leering as his eyes dragged up and down Bucky’s body. “We probably should have told them we needed a better constructed bed beforehand. Having that concierge barge in at 2 am when the headboard snapped in two was mortifying,” Steve laughed.

                And now they were discussing their imaginary sex life, this was just great. After that the conversation died out rapidly as they approached the house, a suit pulling up the bike as they got to the front porch. As soon as the door closed Steve had him pinned against the wall, arms by his sides, the man’s hands like vices around him. “You ready for this Buck?” he asked, a lascivious grin playing at his lips. Bucky was so not ready, not in the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo, more Avengers! Bickering science bros are the best. 
> 
> Chapter title taken from a mangled title of a Freezepop song.


	3. (False) Memory Lane

                Steve’s fingers on him were like brands, licking at his skin and setting it aflame. He panted breathlessly, eyes staring with apprehension and worry at Steve. Gulping, he used what strength he had to break out of the hold and fling Steve off a bit.

                “Knock it off Stevie!” he said, trying to sound playful even though he was about to claw his eyes out with tension.

Taking a step back, Steve looked at him funny before a lascivious grin spread across his lips. Stepping forward, Steve’s voice dipped low, making Bucky’s body react in a way he wasn’t prepared for. “You want it rough tonight Buck?” Steve asked, and Bucky swears he didn’t whimper, he didn’t, but that didn’t stop Steve form gripping his cheek in a soft, strong hand and whispering how he was going to fuck him so good and sweet.

                “I… Steve, stop!” Bucky said, freaking out a bit. He pulled away, walking over towards the banister and looking at Steve over his arm, the flesh and blood one his brain kept thinking wasn’t there, shouldn’t be there. “There is something I don’t…” Bucky hesitated, not sure he should tell Steve what was going on. Sure, he didn’t want to go along with this, didn’t want Steve. At least, not like this, part of his treacherous brain supplied, and trying desperately he quelled that line of thought.

                Steve’s curious stare turned soft at the edges, predatory glint in his eye gone, replaced by a soothing tenderness and concern. “Are you alright? Look, is it that article Nat sent over the other day, because I swear if she is fucking shit up already…” Steve trailed off, looking more than a bit murderous.

                Holding up his hands in defense Bucky shook his head. “No it’s fine, just feeling, I don’t know, a bit off today?” he tried, hoping that sounded convincing, even though his words felt hollow even to himself.

                Closing the distance, Steve rested his head on Bucky’s shoulder, nosing at his neck and sighing as he relaxed into the brunet’s body. “It’s ok Buck, I know this is all strange. I never thought we’d have this, that the world would accept this, accept us,” he said, pulling back, large hands pressed over Bucky’s biceps. The smile Steve gave him was so genuine it made his heart melt a bit, even though he barely remembered his Steve looking at him like that, there was a faint trace, a bit of pride his memories flickered back to him that brought a blush to his cheeks.

                The sound of the cars pulling away from the drive broke the moment, so Steve walked away, giving Bucky a moment to calm himself from the proximity and the nerves. Looking at the photos again, he noticed all the shots were of them, save for a few, and they seemed to have progressed in amazing fashion.

The ones at the bottom of the staircase were recent; him and Steve on their honeymoon he presumed tacky Hawaiian shirts and both of them smiling serenely on a beach. Farther up were some of them from what appeared to be press conferences, news photos of them at a black tie affair, him and Steve dressed in bright colors at a protest, Steve and him in a garden with what looked like some hippies, even one with President Kennedy that was in black and white. After that the photos were more subdued him and Steve on the battlefield, Peggy laughing with Steve and Bucky right beside them, smiling in front of what looked to be an early Shield logo. At last there were a few photos from their youth, miraculously still intact after so many years.

The memories flowed easily to him, ones he hadn’t had before coming here. Even though this wasn’t his life, wasn’t what he had lived, this Bucky Barnes’ life was calling his own memories of the war, of skinny little Steve hacking up a lung back in their shitty Brooklyn apartment.

                When he looked back, Steve was doing the same thing, eyes fixed on the line of pictures, but following them in a reverse order until his blue eyes alit on Bucky. A soft smile came over them both then, and Bucky tried so hard to be good, to do what this Bucky might do, a Bucky that didn’t have years of torture, gaps in his memory where some days it was hard to even remember his own name. It was terrifying to think that somewhere a version of himself had gotten to have this, gotten to have a life, a family, to be loved and live on into the future without being manipulated and toyed with.

                Suddenly Bucky stopped himself, realizing that the wood of the banister was creaking as he gripped it too tight, attempting to quash the flare of jealousy biting at his insides for this Bucky. This Bucky who got to be happy, this Bucky that got to be whole… This Bucky that got to have Steve.

                “Look Buck, I know this is all new, it’s new to me too. I’m sorry if I’ve been a bit…” Steve paused, looking thoughtful before licking his lips and smirking, “horny lately. I just really love getting to call you my husband and feel you inside me, or me inside you,” he said, laying a hand on Bucky’s chest lightly. “But I get it, we have a mission to think about and I’m derailing things by just being sexual all the time, I know you have your hunter mode shit that you get into, so go do your thing Buck, get ready for everything and when we get home, when everyone is safe and sound and it’s just the two of us alone in our bed, then, and only then, will I take you apart and put you back together for hours and hours.”

                While what Steve was saying was almost like a threat, it made Bucky shiver. Part of him did remember, remembered cold night sin the mountains when they’d huddled for warmth, or earlier still when the heater broke or the nights grew too long and he had to bundle up with Steve under the blankets. He remembered that sickly, embarrassing feeling in the pit of his gut, those feelings he wasn’t supposed to have, and certainly not for Stevie, little Stevie who needed protecting, not his best friend wanting to devour him like the wolf he pretended to be.

                “Just know, I love you so much mister, and I’m always going to love you. Now get your butt to the basement and get ready. I’ll be in the garage working out until Fury needs us,” Steve told him, pressing a feather-light kiss to the corner of his mouth before walking behind him, but not without slapping his ass and running off.

                Bucky sighed, “this is so not fair,” he bemoaned, before heading down to the basement, hoping that whatever gear he had here, it was at least similar to his gear back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, that was a long af time between updates... Sorry! Anyway, I'm going to go write another chapter now so hopefully more soon!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing anything non-Teen Wolf in terms of fanfiction and I only know Bucky through the Cap movies so... Forgive me if this sucks. As may be noticeable, I am also Wolves_of_Innistrad.


End file.
